by K. C. Crowne
“Let me guess,” I said, sarcasm dripping off my tongue. “You don’t remember why these are here.”
“That’s right,” she retorted, more strength in her voice as she defended herself. “I found those pictures and was as surprised as you are right now.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Alright, so you knew about these? How long have you been hidin’ this?”
She chewed her lip. “I found the camera a few days ago. I was looking through my bag and it was in a side compartment. I went through it and saw those pictures and didn’t know what the hell do to.”
“So, you’ve known about them for a while,” I mused angrily, shaking my head. “And you thought the best plan was to hide them from me? Even after I asked you time and again if you had any other information?”
“What was I supposed to say?” she asked, her voice rising. “Hey, Wyatt, I found all these pictures on my camera of you and the ranch. Not sure why they’re there, but probably because I was spying on you.”
I did my best to keep my anger in check. The situation was fucking strange as hell but screaming at Jess wouldn’t have done a damn bit of good.
“You should’ve said somethin’, Jess. I’ve been sayin’ to you that we can’t have any secrets between us. I was thinkin’ we were on the level with each other, but this whole fuckin’ time you’ve been hidin’ this. There a reason why?”
“Because I wanted to wait for my memory to come back. There has to be some good explanation for why I took those pictures. I guess I figured I’d remember, and then I’d tell you and everything would be cool.”
I snorted. “Everything’s not ‘cool’ Your memory didn’t come back, and now I don’t know if I can trust you.” Her memory of the conversation she shared with Amy popped in my head, and my eyes narrowed. “And then there’s that shit with Amy. Who the hell are you, Jess? What kind of damn woman have I let into my life?”
She opened her mouth, but no words came out. I’d asked her a question she couldn’t possibly answer. I realized there wasn’t a single reason the conversation needed to continue. I was asking her for an explanation she couldn’t provide. I bent, picked up the camera, and tossed it in her direction. Jess caught it, looking down at the thing like it was radioactive.
Then I rose from the bale. “I’ve got a lot of shit to think about,” I said. “Until then, I don’t want to see you.”
“But…” No words came after that. Good thing, because anything she had to say, I didn’t want to hear it.
“Put your jacket on, it’s cold out,” I growled as I left. “And close the barn when you’re done.”
I almost didn’t want to leave the animals. They’d provided comfort in their snorts and snuffles. I could lose myself in their care and untangle my thoughts. But I didn’t want to be in the barn with her, and Juniper and Red were perfectly fine
Red. I shook my head as I stepped out of the barn and headed for my cabin. I’d named my damn horse after a woman who very well could’ve been lying through her teeth from the moment we’d met. Hell, maybe the memory loss had been a lie she’d whipped up too.
Once I was in my cabin, my eyes settled on Jess’s things. Most of her belongings were still in the room at the main house, but I needed to do something about what was at my place. Throwing her out in the cold wasn’t all that appealing, but at that moment I sure as shit didn’t want to see her until I had a better idea of what the hell was going on.
Amy. I had to call her and see if I could figure out what the fuck was going on. Phone in hand, I stepped into the kitchen and poured myself a shot of Maker’s Mark. Angry drinking wasn’t usually my thing, but I was riled up and knew a little nip of something would cool my blood. Once the shot was down the hatch, I dialed Amy’s number and waited for her to answer.
“Wyatt,” she schmoozed. “This is unexpected.”
“Jess Whitman,” I grumbled. “Tell me what you know about her. And no bullshit this time.”
There was a pause. “Hm. Jess…what-man? Name doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Dammit, Amy!” My tone was edged with anger, and I forced myself to calm down. I inhaled, exhaled, and said, “Amy, I know you know her. Now, we can fuck around for the next half hour until you finally tell me what’s going on, or we can get to it right now. Your call.”
“Wyatt, I don’t know who you’re talking about. I haven’t met anyone by that name. Maybe you’re confused.” She chuckled mischievously. “One of the horses give you a hoof to the head and get you all discombobulated?”
Amy wanted to play games, and I was in the mood for anything but. Some choice words formed in my mind, but I knew if I were to let them out, they’d cause nothing but trouble.
“Jess Whitman. I found her on my property a few days ago. She’d had taken a spill, lost her damn memory.”
“Wow. Bummer.” She clearly didn’t give a shit.
“Decided to let her stay at the ranch until her memory came back.”
“Very nice of you, Wyatt,” she retorted dryly. “There a reason you’re telling me this?”
“There sure as hell is. The other day some memories came back to her, ones of you and her having a conversation. She said you guys had met, and I was the subject.”
Silence on the other end. I was onto something.
“Then I find a camera that belongs to her, one that’s full of pictures of me and the ranch, like she was spying on me or somethin’.” I paused. Silence. “Now, I ain’t a damn detective, but it’s lookin’ like you tried to pull some underhanded shit and I wanna know about it.”
“I don’t know wha—”
“You toss another lie in my direction and you’ll find out just how hard I’ll fight in court to make sure you don’t see a damn dime more than I already gave you. And I got a feeling the judge won’t take too kindly to this sort of underhanded shit.”
“Now hold on just a damn minute,” she replied haughtily. “Don’t you accuse me of being underhanded.”
“Amy.” I said her name as if it were a curse word, halting hers. “You know God damned well you’re not gettin’ another damn penny. Now tell me what the fuck you did! I’m done playing!”
More silence. There was a good chance Amy was whipping up another lie, but I hoped she’d realize her back was against the wall.
“Fine. Jess Whitman,” she finally said, elongating the name. “If you really want to get technical about it, it’d be Jess Whitman, PI.”
“PI?” I asked, a scowl on my face. “What the hell’s that? Like…a private investigator?”
“Sharp as ever, Wyatt.” I held my tongue. “Not sure how close you’ve gotten with the girl, but I’m guessing it wasn’t enough for this little secret to come out.”
“Get to it, Amy. Tell me what you did.”
“Where to begin?” she mused with a small snicker.
“Pick a place and start. When you met Jess comes to mind.”
She sighed. “Wyatt, you know I’m looking to cover myself during this nasty little process.”
“If you wanna call it that,” I said scathingly.
“To that end, I aimed to see if there was any kind of…leverage I could use to my advantage. Maybe something about the squeaky-clean Wyatt Walker that might do me some good in the courtroom.”
“Sounds like the Amy I know.”
“You want me to explain? Then let me.” The anger I remembered crossed the phone line.
“Fine.”
“Jess came highly recommended –one of the top PIs in Houston. Once I’d had a chance to look over her record, I set up a meeting. She told me the first step was to hear my side of the story and go from there.”
“And when you met you told her nothing but lies.”
“I told her my side of the story,” she defended. “Jess was all too eager to help, especially when I told her what I was willing to pay.”
That didn’t sound like the Jess I’d come to know. I reminded myself to keep in mind that while Amy was supposedly coming clean, she was still Amy to t
he core. Trusting every word that came out of her mouth would be a stupid idea.
“Go on,” I said.
“We met up, like I said. I told her my side of the story, and we signed on the dotted line. She agreed to work for me.”
“And what kind of work are we talking about here, exactly?”
“The kind of work you might find on a digital camera,” she replied sarcastically. I could imagine her rolling her eyes. “I paid her to keep tabs on you, let me know if she found anything of interest.”
“What’d she find?”
She laughed. “You think I’m going to give away everything?”
“You’d better.”
“It doesn’t even matter. She told me she was going off the radar for a little while, scope out your place and find out what she could. I never heard back from her.”
I said nothing, waiting for more. When she said nothing, I asked, “That’s it?”
“That’s it. What were you expecting?”
Truth was, I was expecting some kind of explanation for what had happened to Jess out in the snow. But it was looking like it’d been nothing more than an accident – Jess had likely slipped and fallen in the process of spying on me. Fucking spying. Never in a million fucking years would I have guessed Jess would be in that line of work. A PI? It was almost too crazy to believe.
“I want to know what you told her about me and you. I wanna know exactly what your side of the story was.”
I could imagine the bullshit sob story Amy had put together for her. I hoped was the case, anyway. Knowing Jess could have some money dangled in front of her face to do work like this didn’t sit right with me in the slightest.
“I said I’d tell you how I knew Jess, and I did. You want to know more, you can give me what I want, Wyatt. Or we can see each other in court.”
I needed to get off the phone. “Weren’t you listenin’? You’ve got nothin’, and you know it.”
“We’ll see.”
The line went dead. I tucked my phone into my pocket, my eyes going to the bottle of bourbon. Part of me wanted to chug it, but I knew it wouldn’t be a smart idea. Blasting my brains into oblivion with booze wouldn’t help – I needed a clear mind to handle this.
A knock sounded at the door, one that was soft and wary. Had to be Jess. As much as I didn’t want to see her, I needed to hear her out after what I’d learned. Maybe she had a side to the story that would make more sense.
I opened the door. She stood on the threshold, a worried expression painting her stunning features, and it was clear whatever she wanted to say, she was having a hard time with it. Without saying a word, I stepped away from the door and let her inside, letting her close the door behind her.
I dropped onto the couch and Jess sat across from me. It pained me a bit to know only an hour ago if we’d been alone, she’d be right next to me, my arm around her shoulders as she curled up against me. Instead, she was tense. Her back was straight, and her hands were on her knees, her fingertips kneading anxiously into the denim.
“You know Amy,” I said, getting right to the point. “I just got off the phone with her. Turns out you’re some kind of private investigator. She paid you to spy on me.”
I don’t know what I expected. If Amy was right, it was the truth, and laying the truth out on a liar had a way of coaxing the rest of the story out of them. But Jess was an unusual case – she had no memory. Or that’s what I’d been led to believe.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I…don’t know.”
“It’d sure as shit explain those pictures on your camera,” I said, leaning forward. “Those weren’t some friendly snapshots – those were taken from far away.”
Jess was hurting, no doubt about. But now I was wondering whether it was all an act.
“I don’t remember anything,” she murmured. “I met with Amy, that’s true. But I barely remember the conversation and I don’t remember anything else about the job. Or about being a PI. Wyatt...I don’t know what to say.”
Fucking hell. More blood from a stone.
“Amy’s a liar, through and through,” I countered. “But all the evidence – what she said, the camera, what you remember – it’s paintin’ a hell of a picture. And the picture is of someone I don’t know if I can trust.”
“You can trust me, Wyatt,” she said, a trace of pleading in her voice. “I don’t know what I did, but I can say for certain that right now, at this moment, I’d never do a thing to hurt you.”
“Hurt me,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s the lyin’ that kills me. Thought I was done with women who told tall tales. But I let another one into my life.”
“Please,” she begged, lifting her hands to me. “I’m not that person. You have to believe me.”
“You’re only not that person because you don’t remember being her. But if your memory comes back, that’s who you’re gonna be. And it’s the kind of person I can’t have around.”
Jess said nothing, processing my words. It was a clusterfuck of a situation for sure.
“And your memory,” I reminded her. “How the hell do I even know you’re tellin’ the truth about that?”
“I am!” she cried, her green eyes wide as saucers. “You have to believe that I don’t remember any of this!”
I waved my hand through the air, dismissing the words. “Doesn’t matter. I know what I saw, and I’ve got a pretty good idea what you did.” Anger tingled in my belly, and I knew if the conversation continued any longer, there was a chance I’d say something I’d regret. “Talkin’ ain’t gonna do us any good, Jess. Right now, I need you out of my sight.”
“But—”
“No buts. Got a shitload on my mind, and you bein’ around right now is only making it harder to think about. Your stuff’s in the bedroom – pack it and head back to the house. And keep a wide berth from me until I’m damn good and ready, y’hear?”
Even in the low light of the cabin I could see the tears glistening in her eyes. I felt a twinge of pain, but I was making the right call. Jess sat frozen in place for several long moments. Finally, as if someone had lit a fire under her behind, she sprang from the chair and hurried to the bedroom. A rustling noise indicated she was packing, and before long she returned with her clothes packed into a small, cloth bag.
“Wyatt,” she said when she reached the door. “I’m…sorry.”
“That makes the two of us, Jess.”
There was nothing else to be said. She opened the door and rushed out, a chill wind curling through the cabin as the door closed behind her. Jess was gone, and I was alone, her face appearing in my mind’s eye clear as a picture the second she was out of my sight. Now what the hell was I gonna do?
Jessica
There was nothing to do but leave. What other option did I have? Stay at the ranch and put as much distance between Wyatt and me while waiting for the word to spread of what I’d done? I could only imagine the Walker family slowly souring on me as news moved from person to person, and I didn’t want to be there when it happened.
Wyatt hadn’t officially booted me out, but it was clear my welcome was more than worn out. But where the hell would I go?
I trudged back to the ranch, the bag of clothes in my hand. As I made my way to the front door, I spotted my car parked among the trucks. At least I had a way to get back to…well, wherever I needed to go.
Houston. My address was on my license and though I had no recollection of how to get there, I could plug it into the car’s GPS and get there. I wasn’t sure how far Patterson was from Houston, but the drive would give me a chance to think and try to sort out the clusterfuck I currently found myself in.
Once in the room I’d stayed in, I quickly packed my things, shoving them into my suitcase along with the damned camera, the thing that had gotten me into all this trouble to begin with. I almost wanted to pitch the thing out of the nearest window, but I didn’t.
All packed, I checked the time. Silas had picked me up a replacement phone the l
ast time he’d been in town, and the screen let me know I had a full battery. Not much money in my purse, but it’d be enough for gas and a quick trip through a drive-thru if I got hungry.
After putting everything back into my suitcase, I looked over the room one last time. It killed me to know this place, not only my room but the entire ranch, would be no more than a bitter memory. What Wyatt and I had shared had been wonderful, special beyond compare. But it’d been tainted by actions I couldn’t explain or remember. It felt as though I was paying for someone else’s crimes.
Through the shut bedroom door, the lunch bell chimed out. The family would be sitting down to eat, and it’d be the perfect time to leave without drawing attention to myself. After waiting a few minutes, I grabbed my bag and headed down the stairs.
In the entry hall, the sound of lively conversation wafted toward me just as surely as the scent of the delicious food that Ginny had prepared. I sniffed the air, detecting fresh baked bread. A pang of regret stabbed my stomach as it dawned on me that I was no longer welcome at the kitchen table.
It was my cue to leave. I opened the front door and quietly shut it behind me. Moments later I was behind the wheel of my car slipping the keys into the ignition. I pulled out of the parking area and drove away from Rainbow Canyons Ranch.
Each moment that passed put the ranch further and further behind me as I drove to a destination I couldn’t remember. A half-hour later I was through Patterson and on the interstate going north. My phone was on the passenger seat, and a small part of me hoped it would start chiming with a text or a call from Wyatt. I knew it wouldn’t – I was certain the last thing he wanted to do was talk to me. No, he’d made his thoughts on that matter clear as day.
The highway was mostly empty, and as I drove my thoughts bounced in my head. A drive alone with too much to think about wasn’t helping matters, but I had no other choice.
I thought about the conversation with Amy, hoping anything would come to mind about the subject. But nothing floated up through the murky darkness of my memories. Everything Wyatt had said synched up with what I’d remembered – I was a private investigator, and Amy was my client.